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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26902000">you're the only one i can trust</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewildparts/pseuds/thewildparts'>thewildparts</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>0.57 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adult Number Five | The Boy, F/M, I tend to write angst but I wanted to be soft for my first Fiveya fic, Implied Sexual Content, Minor Allison Hargreeves/Luther Hargreeves, Minor Ben Hargreeves/Klaus Hargreeves/Diego Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy in an Adult Body, POV Vanya Hargreeves, This is also much longer than I intended, This is softer than I intended, Yeah. Harcest. Get over it.</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:47:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,153</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26902000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewildparts/pseuds/thewildparts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They say home is where the heart is: for Vanya, that's Five.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Number Five | The Boy/Vanya Hargreeves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>0.57 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1968283</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>97</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>you're the only one i can trust</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They come home, Vanya flushed red in the face while Five's buzzed, hands all over each other, kissed lips swollen and nearly bruised. They stumble through the doorway, the door locking seconds before there’s blue light framing the edges of Vanya’s vision as Five blinks the two of them into the bedroom.</p><p>Clothes get thrown off, forming a mess on the floor, but neither care. They’re too enraptured with the sensation of skin-against-skin, of mouths meeting hotly, of sating the ravenous fires that burn low in their cores and urge them on in their well-practiced ways.</p><p>When it’s over, they wash up, exchange loving words and tender kisses unlike the searing heat of many—some of which left marks that litter Vanya’s skin, from her neck to her chest to her inner thighs.</p><p>“You’re mine,” Five had whispered at her soft whimpers after the first love bite. “I’m going to make sure everyone knows it.”</p><p><em> They will now, </em> she thinks, knowing beyond a doubt that she doesn’t have enough concealer to cover up the mess Five made of her—but that’s a problem for later when morning bleeds into the afternoon; when she’s due for rehearsal, and right now, it’s still dark out; it’s still night.</p><p>They settle into bed, let sleep claim their consciousnesses, and curl into each other subconsciously, needing the reassurance of one another’s presence even when asleep.</p><p>For Five, it’s the longing brought on by the loss of human contact for over forty years; for Vanya, it’s the loss of her best friend, confidant, and childhood crush and the overwhelming relief at getting him back. She’d relied on Ben in Five's absence, but after Ben had died, she’d had no one. No one to talk to, no one to trust, and in that way, she was truly alone. But Five’s here now—he’s here, warm and real and alive with his arms wrapped around her, and she sleeps peacefully.</p><p>When dawn arrives, Vanya stirs awake, blinking blearily until the world comes into focus. Until Five’s sleeping face, cherubic in his youth and beautiful now—comes into focus.</p><p>She expected his adult body to look different, somehow. A little less handsome, a little less gorgeous. Sure, his teenage body was what she remembered clearly, but to see him now, fast asleep and looking oh-so-gentle and all hers—it makes her wish for all the time in the world, just so she can spend forever with him.</p><p>Her fingers trace his jawline, sharp and angled perfectly. The Commission did a good job when they made his body; Five hates their guts, but begrudgingly admits such a thing from time to time, preening at the attention Vanya gives him and scowling whenever Klaus tries to butt in with a compliment. The sight always makes her laugh, and even now, she smiles at the most recent memory: last night, the lot of them drinking in celebration of Allison and Luther getting engaged, Klaus and Diego leaning against each other, Allison and Luther looking like they’d give the world for one another.</p><p>Five had leaned close, lips right by her ear and hot breath brushing past when he’d murmured, “We’re next.”</p><p>Klaus had taken Vanya’s quickly-reddening face as a sign of something other than the innocent promise Five had whispered, snickering with a wink when she met his eyes. “Someone’s going to have fun tonight. Mind if I join in?”</p><p>Diego and Five had both glared at Klaus in unison, and Vanya found herself imagining that if Ben were corporeal, he’d have shared the same expression.</p><p>“What?” Klaus had protested. “We’re all hot; it’s not weird.” But saying that made Five throw an arm over Vanya’s shoulder, protective and disgruntled. She’d leaned into his touch, head resting in the crook between Five’s neck and shoulder, the two of them becoming a picture-perfect pose for a cuddling couple.</p><p>In the here and now, Vanya’s hand trails down her lover’s neck, resting for a second on his collarbone before she touches her own, the necklace of hickeys Five left the night prior still dark stains contrasting her paleness. He’d known the marks would stay when he’d made them, had said they were “reminders. For anyone who dares to look at you the way I do. You’re going to wear them with pride, and everyone's going to know you're mine."</p><p>But right now, she wears them like reminders of Five’s love—which they are, but not in the way he intends. To her, they’re sweet gestures, not jealous, possessive claims made in the heat of the moment. To her, they’re signs that she’s cared for, that Five will always put her pleasure and well-being first. To her, they’re indications that he knows her.</p><p>And likewise, she knows him.</p><p>God, she knows him. </p><p>Vanya knows Five the way she knows how to play the violin—effortlessly, her fingers lithe and light against the strings, against his skin. She knows him like the back of her hand. She knows he likes his snack foods sweet and his coffee dark and bitter. She knows he would do anything for her, go anywhere so long as she was there.</p><p>Vanya closes her eyes, heart threatening to burst out of her chest with so much love flooding into it, and whispers, “I love you.”</p><p>“I know you do,” comes the quiet response. Vanya’s eyes shoot open, warm brown meeting soft green as Five smiles lazily in her direction. “In case you’ve forgotten, I love you too.” He grabs her hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissing her knuckles, lips soft against her skin. “I was wondering when you’d wake up.”</p><p>“Wait—” Vanya’s eyes narrow. “You were awake?”</p><p>“I’ve been up since six. I crawled back into bed about five minutes before you woke up.”</p><p>She blinks. “And you decided to keep lying there, pretending to be asleep, because...?”</p><p>Five chuckles; Vanya’s brows knit together. He intertwines their fingers, his hand dwarfing hers. “Because you’re needy,” he teases. “You always get worried whenever I’m not sleeping next to you.”</p><p>Flummoxed, Vanya frowns. “That sounds more like something you do, not me.”</p><p>“Is it?” Five turns their clasped hands, places another kiss on hers—to the back of her palm, this time. “Well, you can’t blame me for that." He lets go of her hand; leans closer, mouth millimetres away from hers. “I’m always thinking about you.”</p><p>A memory comes unbidden: him, days before receiving his fully-grown body, showing her his copy of her autobiography, filled to the brim with calculations, remarking that she was the whole reason he survived; Five found hope in her words, regardless of how much she regrets writing them down.</p><p>Love fills her up as easily as breathing air, and Vanya pretends her cheeks aren’t pinking, suddenly shy as she rolls out of bed and away from Five.</p><p>Twenty minutes later, after she’s showered and finished with her morning routine, he approaches her from behind, hands gently gripping her upper arms as he places a kiss on her neck, right where a hickey is. The knife she’s using to dice tomatoes stills; then gets plucked out of her grasp when Five sets it aside to turn her around.</p><p>When he kisses her, the world splits in two. There’s a before; there’s an after; Vanya’s heart races in time with Five’s as he leaves her breathless.</p><p>Mind on autopilot, her arms wrap around his neck, and he grips under her thighs to lift her, carrying her effortlessly. Five teleports the two of them over to the couch, sitting down, so Vanya straddles him.</p><p>Dumbstruck by their closeness in a matter of seconds, she chuckles, nervous, the sound both like and unlike her in the same breath, so Five kisses her again, a small peck of his lips against hers. “Calm down.”</p><p>“I can’t,” she whispers, even though it’s only them in the apartment.</p><p>He presses a hand to her chest, right where her heart is, feeling it beat <em> allegretto</em>—a sharp inhale and the brief stutter of his own heart indicates when Five realises she’s not wearing anything underneath her shirt. His gaze flicks up to meet Vanya’s, and she gives him a decisive, minute shake of her head. <em> Not right now. </em></p><p>Five withdraws his hand, Vanya missing the warmth of it as soon as it’s gone, but relieved all the same, shoulders lowering as she gets off of Five’s lap and pads over to the kitchen to continue making breakfast.</p><p>She turns on the coffee machine, the act itself reminding her of the very first time Five set foot in her apartment—when he’d told her about the apocalypse, not yet aware of her being the cause, and said nine words that made her breath catch in her throat: <em>“ I’ve decided you’re the only one I can trust.” </em></p><p>Because once, long ago, they’d been each other’s closest friend, their platonic bond something neither had expected, but something neither chose to reject. Now they’ve become lovers—ones who cherish what they have with every breath they take and every molecule in their bodies.</p><p>They’re soulmates, regardless of the nature of their bond, be it platonic, romantic, or sexual. Vanya and Five are two sides of the same coin, two disasters joining together to form a resolution. She doesn’t want to live a life without him by her side.</p><p>But even so, the thought of tying the knot chews her up and spits her out. Vanya’s hands shake as she cracks eggs into a bowl, silently scolding herself for having to pick out fallen bits of eggshell before continuing to cook.</p><p>After she plates the second omelette, slightly brown from the too-high heat, Vanya turns off the stove and looks at Five, who’s somehow halfway through a book already, still seated on the couch. “Breakfast’s ready.”</p><p>The smile he shoots her way is warmer than his coffee, which Five accepts gratefully, taking small, occasional sips of the hot drink while they eat. Halfway through their meal, he reaches for her wrist, making Vanya’s fork clatter loudly against her plate as Five takes her hand, merely holding it.</p><p>For a moment, everything in the apartment trembles, but it’s thankfully short-lived. Vanya calms as soon as Five brushes his thumb against the back of her hand. “What are you doing?” she asks, relieved when her voice doesn’t quiver.</p><p>“Admiring how well we fit together,” comes the quiet reply; Five interlaces their fingers much like earlier, when they were in bed. “Unless you have a problem with that.”</p><p>“No,” Vanya says. “It’s okay. I just...” She pauses, looking down at her half-eaten meal. “Did you mean what you said last night? About us getting married?”</p><p>Five swallows a mouthful of coffee before responding. “What makes you think I’d lie about that?”</p><p>“I don’t know.” Old insecurities threaten to resurface—she’s not good enough; how could he ever love her so much, plain, unassuming, timid as she is? He must pity her, that's it. “It just sounds surreal, that’s all.”</p><p>“Vanya.” It’s a silent request, and she grants it, turning her head to meet Five’s gaze. “We have superpowers. We’ve time-travelled, and I got stuck in my thirteen-year-old body for a while. But you draw the line at <em> marriage?” </em></p><p>Heat rushes to her cheeks at his tone. “It’s illegal,” she mumbles, in the way of a weak defense.</p><p>“It's legal in Sweden; the cost of flying there and back isn't an issue.” Five stares at her, analytical eyes narrowing in concern. “What’s wrong?”</p><p>Vanya only responds when her fork starts rattling, the plate beneath it shaking and bumping against the metal utensil. “Nothing; I’m fine.” Despite how it sounds, it’s not a complete lie—there isn’t anything wrong with her physically. “I’m just not sure... You don’t have the ring already, do you?”</p><p>Five frowns. “Vanya, if you’re anxious about this, you can relax. I’m not proposing anytime soon.”</p><p>“No, no.” She shakes her head vehemently, in protest. “I’m not anxious about that. I’m just—” <em>  Afraid. Afraid I’ll blow us both up. Scared; you’ll stop loving me someday and regret marrying me. </em> But the words won’t fit in her mouth. They’ve lodged in her throat; Vanya grows sick and pale and nearly tearful as she tries to force them out.</p><p>Five’s hand, still holding hers, squeezes gently, the pressure soothing. Grounding. “Talk to me.”</p><p>Vanya takes a deep breath, exhales shakily. “I just don’t want you to regret it.”</p><p>“Marrying you?” Five smiles fondly, the look reflected in his eyes. “I would never, Vanya. You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to marry.”</p><p>Something settles within her; relief unfurling like a flag. “Really?”</p><p>Five nods, sincere. "I always need you, Vanya. You’re my compass. You help me come home.”</p><p>Warmth floods her being; Vanya lets go of Five’s hand to fling her arms around him.</p><p>“I love you,” she mumbles.</p><p>“I love you too.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you enjoyed this foray into the softer side of things; I know I did. Also, oof, what a doozy it was to write.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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